


Come Whatever May

by Stormchild



Category: DCU, Young Justice
Genre: Kidnapping, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormchild/pseuds/Stormchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Oliver Queen becomes Roy Harper’s dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Whatever May

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is YJ!verse, so I took some liberties to make Roy’s comic background fit. Basically, something I did instead of studying for exams.
> 
> Dialogue between angle brackets is translated from Navajo.

"I don' wanna' to do this," Roy whined, eight years old and too impatient to be still long enough for anything. "<This is dumb>, 'm never going to hit the stupid thing."

"Archery is about patience. You will get it," Brave Bow smiled.

Sex years he'd raised this boy as his own. In fact, if Roy wasn't a redhead - so obviously white - Brave Bow would say he was his son biologically. But it didn't matter that Roy's birth father was another man. He'd promised that he would take care of Roy, and he had full intention of keeping that promise.

"This isn't working!"

Roy huffed, stomping his bare feet on the ground as he collected the arrows. They weren't even close to the target. He made his way back to his starting position, right next to his foster father. He scowled up at him, cheeks puffed out and bright blue eyes watering in frustration.

"You'll get it," Brave Bow promised. "<Archery is not a skill mastered in a day>."

Roy had always been a sensitive child. Brave Bow always tried to nurture that sensitivity, to offer comfort where he could and do whatever it took to make his boy smile. It didn't always take much.

He had a habit of bringing strays home. There was always dog food or cat in the house. It was impossible to predict when Roy would bring something home, half starved and pitiful. And Brave Bow, a healer himself, loved watching Roy nurse these animals back to health. He rarely asked for help, determined to take care of the animals himself. They would wander off on their own after that, and some came back again when they were sick and hungry. The strays that came by most often, they took to the city to get shots. Roy didn't want them getting sick, and Brave Bow never had the heart to tell him how much it cost. It made the boy smile, and that was the only important part. Roy rarely asked for anything, he deserved this at least.

But sometimes the animal didn't make it. No matter how many times it happened, Roy would give it a proper burial and cry for days. Sometimes it was enough to make Brave Bow tell him to stop looking after strays. He was only a child, he shouldn't have to experience death.

"But I already have," Roy sniffled. "My father died. I don' remember it, but I- I felt it. He saved people. An' you save people. I wanna' to save people, too. <Animals are people, you know>. "

He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and, to him, it was. Brave Bow smiled and chuckled.

"<You're a wise boy, Roy. You have a good heart>."

Roy beamed and swung his legs happily.  
\--  
There was a horse, Iichíí' bik'á', that Roy liked to ride. He liked the name. Red Arrow. It wasn't his horse, but it might as well have been. The horse was fast, just like the arrows Roy shot. Two years from the first time he held a bow, and he was the best shot in his age group. Hell, he was even better than some people older than him.

Roy climbed onto the horse. He took the reigns with one hand, holding a bow with another. Brave Bow called at him to be careful. Roy laughed and pat Iichíí' bik'á''s neck.

"<Come on>," he urged, and Iichíí' bik'á' began to trot.

Keeping stable with only one hand wasn't too bad. He leaned forward to keep his balance as her pace picked up.

Roy always spoke to the horse in Navajo. Somehow, he felt that animals understood it better than English. Iichíí' bik'á' did, at least. But she was used to Navajo instructions.

"<Easy>," he coaxed.

Slowly, he lifted his hand of the reins. Roy knocked the arrow and drew it back, trying to focus his aim on the target. But the twisted position and a sudden hitch in Iichíí' bik'á''s step had the bow and arrow falling from his hands.

He barely registered his own scream.

He landed on the dirt. A painful thud knocked the wind out of him. The sudden lack of a rider startled Iichíí' bik'á'. She panicked, and a hind hood came down on Roy's ribs. He curled in on himself to avoid the second one.

It took a few moments for Roy to reorient himself. Brave Bow and, Iina, Iichíí' bik'á''s actual owner were bent over him, checking for broken bones.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I just fell. Iichíí' bik'á', <get bach here>! I'm fine!"

The horse trotted back. Brave Bow hunched over as much as he could, putting himself between Iichíí' bik'á' and Roy. She was calm, standing still to await a rider.

"I want to try again," Roy said, pushing himself to his feet. "<Come here, horsey>."

As much as Brave Bow and Iina tried, they couldn't get him to take a break. How was he ever going to be as good as Green Arrow, he asked, if he didn't practice. Roy was nothing if not stubborn, and Brave Bow almost wished he didn't let the redhead watch the news when the boy's hero was on.

By the time Roy was thirteen, he was the best archer on the reserve and one of the best horseback rider. He was practicing, holding a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. Iichíí' bik'á' trotted a bit aimlessly, waiting for a command. He new he was being watched, by Brave Bow and a rich, white man from Start City. Brave Bow said he gave a lot of money to the reserve. Roy didn't care much, but he did like to show off. Especially for a white guy who'd probably had never even held a bow or seen a horse.

"<Come on, let’s go fast. Show this guy what we can do>, Iichíí' bik'á'."

Ollie watched, eyebrows raising, as he watched the kid on the horse. The horse's legs were a blur. It wasn't until it - she - slowed down and the kid held up three fingers that Ollie realized that he'd hit each target, dead on.

"He's good."

"The best," Brave Bow said proudly. "This is my son, Roy Harper. Adopted son. I raised him since he was a boy."

They watched him for a while. The wide grin on Roy's face made it fairly clear that he was having fun. And why shouldn't he be? He was good at this. The bow and the arrows were all hand made by Roy himself. Apparenty, getting Roy to work with his hands was the best way to keep him occupied.

"I'd love to see what he can do in a few years," Ollie mused.

"I would, too. Unfortunately, I won't be around that long."

Ollie glanced over, caught off guard by the statement. He caught the sad look in Brave Bow's eye. Before he could decide whether or not to ask about it, Brave Bow continued.

"Liver cancer. He does not know. Roy lost his birth father as a child. You see that smile? My heart isn't in it to take that away."

Ollie nodded in understanding. He watched Roy lean forward and wrap an arm around the horse's neck in a hug. It did seem a little harsh to tell him that his adoptive father was dying.

"How long do you have?"

"Not long enough. I am sorry, this is nothing you have to worry about. I want you to enjoy this visit."

"No, it's all right. Does he have any family?"

Brave Bow shook his head.

"None that social services was able to find when his father died."

"So he's going to wind up in the system."

"Yes."

Ollie wanted to tell himself that Roy could wind up with a great family. But he was thinking what he was sure Brave Bow was thinking. The odds weren't good. Foster care was rough enough, it was harder with older kids. Especially with older kids who were fidgety and stubborn and impatient.

"Is there anything I can do?"

This was none of Ollie's business. But damn, the kid was a great shot.

"You've done more than enough for me, Mr. Queen."

"Please, it's Ollie. My parents are dead too."

Brave Bow sighed. Roy was collecting his arrows again, chatting to Iichíí' bik'á' in Navajo. Iichíí' bik'á' followed obediently, without Roy having to take hold of the remains.

"My fear is that someone will take him and try to strip him of his heritage. When I am gone... I cannot be sure that no-one will be cruel to my child."

Ollie's heart broke at the thought. Roy laughed and kissed the horse's nose. The idea of someone deliberately hurting him... He was just a kid, who was going to be alone in the world. Would it be wrong, he wondered, to make a thirteen year old his sidekick? Batman's new sidekick was nine.

"I could... I'll see what I can do. I promise I'll make sure he winds up with a good family."

"You cannot imagine what that would mean to me."

Roy glanced over and smiled. He waved, and they waved back. He climbed back on Iichíí' bik'á' with a bright laugh. Roy always laughed a lot. It was heartwarming to Brave Bow, who hoped he could hear it more before he died.  
\--  
"I don't belong here!"

"Roy, you do. You are my son. You have Navajo blood. You belong here as much as anyone else here."

"No, I don't. I'm- I'm Hassasi."

Roy rubbed his eyes in a feeble attempt to hide his tears. As respected as Roy's father had been, the fact was that he and Roy himself were white. And it didn't matter that Roy had grown up on the reserve. No-one had ever said anything to Roy, directly. But he didn't have any real friends, and he saw the distrust the people had for whites. Not that he blamed them. But Roy was white and that meant he wasn't welcome. Maybe never had been. Brave Bow had taken him in as repayment of the debt he'd owed to his father for saving his life.

"<Roy Harper, you listen. You are no such thing. I will not have my son chased away from his own home>."

"<I don’t belong here. I never belonged here. I can’t stay here, this isn’t my home. It never- never was>!"

"<Where will you go>?"

Roy sniffled. Brave Bow handed him a tissue, and Roy blew his nose.

"<Star City. I’m going to find Green Arrow to make him make me his partner>."

Brave Bow sighed and sat down. He didn't have the energy to argue. If Roy was older, he might have noticed the symptoms. But his foster father was determined to hide his illness. He didn't want Roy to see him sick. If he left, he wouldn't have to watch his father die. As painful as the idea of Roy leaving was, Brave Bow did see the advantage. And Oliver Queen lived in Star City.

"<How do you plan to get there? Walk>?"

Roy's cheeks flushed and puffed out.

"<No! A bus>."

Brave Bow gave him a sad smile. He pat the spot next to him on Roy's bed. Roy sat down and leaned against his side.

"You've grown into a wonderful young man. I am going to miss you, my son."

"I'm gonna' miss you too. I promise I'll write."

"Oh, I know you will."

He ruffled Roy's hair, earning a giggle. Roy cuddled against his side, pulling his legs up.

"Green Arrow will be lucky to have you as a partner."

"You think?"

"Of course."

Roy wriggled his toes. He looked up at Brave Bow. Tears clung to his eyelashes.

"C'n I sleep in your room tonight?"

"Of course you can."

Two days later, he was on a bus to Star City with a duffel bag. Most of his belongings managed to fit inside. He didn't have much. They'd never had much money, not enough to spend on useless materialistic things. He couldn't bring an assembled bow onto the bus, but he couldn't go after Green Arrow without one. He had some arrows in his bag, the heads covered so they wouldn't poke through the duffel. It was new, just like his shoes. The bow was unassembled, basically a shoelace tied to one end of a stick. It wouldn't take long to make functional.

It was dark by the time he got to Star City. Brave Bow had given him Oliver Queen's address, but he didn't want to find Oliver Queen. He wanted to find Green Arrow. Wandering into the bad part of the city, it wasn't hard. He found the older archer breaking up a robbery. There were four robbers, widely outnumbering Green Arrow. But he seemed to have it under control. Still, Roy wound the shoelace around the other end of the stick and pulling an arrow from his bag. Just in case.

Green Arrow had the situation under control, until he didn't. Roy didn't think. He nocked the arrow and drew back. A robber raised a metal pipe, and Roy released. The arrow sank into his shoulder, not deep enough to cause permanent damage but deep enough to make him drop the pipe with a loud cry of pain. A second arrow found the back of his thigh. The other three were promptly taken down without too much trouble.

"Ya'at'eeh," Roy greeted, stepping forward once the four were properly tied up.

"What-" Green Arrow cleared his throat, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to find you. My name is Roy Harper, and I want to be your partner."

And like that, Oliver Queen became responsible for a fourteen year old. It took adjustment, for both of them. Ollie didn't know how Brave Bow did it. Roy was a handful.

"Roy. Roy! You're going to be late for school, hurry up. Ro- Put your shoes on!"

"I hate shoes!"

"Well you can't go to school without shoes on."

"I did before!"

"Well you can't now. Put your shoes on so I can get you to school before you're late. You can take them off when you get home. And for the love of God, no more climbing trees. Your teachers freak out everytime you do."

Ollie was more than used to that scowl by now. What he wasn't used to was used to was coming home and finding Roy sitting in the living room with a dog.

"Roy," Ollie groaned. "Where did you get that."

"I found him on the way back from school. He doesn't have a home. He looked hungry, so I brought him home. But we don't have any dog food."

He scratched behind the dog's ear. Ollie rubbed a hand over his face.

"That's because we don't have a dog. You can't bring strays home like this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a stray, it could be sick."

"Well I'm a stray too!"

"No, you're a kid. Look, we'll take it to the shelter. How's that? Then we can go for ice cream before patrol."

Roy pouted down at the dog, rubbing his neck.

"Fine," he mumbled.

Despite the pout, Roy was a happy kid. He talked a lot, about everything. Sometimes in Navajo, and Ollie never knew how to respond or what to say. And sometimes Roy got homesick, but for the first month he and Brave Bow exchanged letters and it was okay.

Roy always got home an hour or so before Ollie did. There was a routine in it. He took his shoes off and grabbed the mail before going inside. He put his backpack on the kitchen table, getting ready to do homework.

This particular day, there was a letter for him. It wasn't from Brave Bow, but the return address was from the reserve. He opened the letter, brow furrowed curiously.

Ollie came home in time to hear Roy vomiting in an upstairs bathroom. He called Roy's name, but only got a slammed bedroom door as a response. There was definitely something wrong. He knocked on Roy's door, calling his name again.

"Go- Go away!" Roy sobbed. "Go away!"

And Ollie did. But he didn't go far. Over the next few days, Roy only emerged from his room to go to the bathroom. If Ollie didn't put food out by his door, the older archer doubted that he would have eaten at all.

It was three days before Roy wandered downstairs, eye bloodshot and barely open. There were ruptured blood vessels around his nose, the entire area rubbed raw.

"Hey, squirt," Ollie said softly. "You okay?"

Roy looked like a wreck, but Ollie couldn't not be relieved at actually seeing him out of his room. He sniffled and shook his head. The letter was stuffed into his fist, falling apart from being folded and unfolded and soaked with tears. He sat down at the table, slumping down. The whole thing was a little pathetic.

"No," Roy mumbled.

Ollie poured him a glass of orange juice and passed him a plate of toast. He sat down across from Roy, trying not to be so obviously pitying.

"What happened, kiddo? Maybe I can help."

"You can't," Roy mumbled. "Brave Bow's dead. My dad is dead. He died."

"Oh... Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I am so sorry, Roy."

Roy said he was fine. Though, it was weeks before he was fine enough to patrol. And when they went, Ollie had to keep talking. Otherwise, Roy would get too anxious and the last thing Ollie wanted was to have a panic attack while on patrol. So, Ollie took to talking and cracking bad jokes because sometimes Roy actually smiled.

Roy had smiled so much before. Ollie had only known him for a month and a bit but he'd become so accustomed to hearing Roy talking and laughing. And already he missed it.

Hal and Dinah assured him it would be okay, that this was a normal reaction. But Ollie didn't quite know how to deal with it, how to help him. And God, how Ollie wanted to help him.  
\--  
"Ollie, look. I can do this myself."

"No, you can't. I have to go to a fundraiser tonight. We can check it out tomorrow."

"It has to be tonight! They're moving out tonight. If we don't get them tonight it'll be months before we can find them again."

"Luthor is not going anywhere."

"No, but the North Rhelasians he's selling weapons to are!"

Ollie sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Roy was fifteen and more stubborn than ever. His teachers were sure Roy didn't apply himself but the fact was, the hero gig was all Roy wanted to do. Ollie saw how intelligent Roy was, how he could make his own bows and arrows, how he could adjust the ones Ollie bought him to be better, more efficient. But he was still trying desperately to prove himself, and sometimes it clouded his judgment.

"I said no. I'll be back in a few hours. I want you in bed by the time I get back."

Roy huffed in frustration and stormed off to his room. Ollie winced at the slam of the door but there was nothing he could do about it. What Roy wanted to do was way beyond his level, especially alone. He figured Roy would get over it. But when he came home, he found a note on the fridge from Roy.

Ollie's stomach twisted. He ran upstairs to Roy's room. It was empty. Roy was nowhere to be found.

And for months, Roy was nowhere to be found. Ollie followed every lead, enlisted the help of everyone he could. Hal was off-world. But Clark was keeping an eye on Luthor, and Dinah was looking just as hard as Ollie. The League was keeping their ears to the ground, at least letting him know when they found something.

Three months. It was three months of hard and solid and non-stop detective work before he managed to track down his missing ward. Ollie had no idea how Roy had wound up in the Biyalian desert, clothes torn and soaked in blood, hands bound behind his back. It didn't matter. He was safe. Alive, at least. It counted for something.

Ollie wrapped Roy up in his arms, trying not to listen to the gasped sobs. There were cracked ribs and a few other injuries, nothing that wouldn't heal at home. Ollie took him back to Star, avoiding everyone as much as physically possible.

Between Dinah and Ollie, they got Roy fed and cleaned and clothed. The bandaged his injuries, smiling at the annoyed sounds Roy was making. It was almost like old times. Except Roy was thinner, hands shaking.

Dinah kissed Roy's forehead, ignoring the way he wrinkled his nose. She and only had only been dating for a few weeks before he'd been kidnapped. Roy hadn't had time to get used to them together. In fact, Ollie patrolling with her instead of him had the boy quite annoyed with her.

"If need anything, you just call. We'll be down the hall."

Roy nodded. Ollie tucked him in, making sure he was comfortable. None of his injuries seemed to be aggravated by the position.

"Rest up kiddo."

Roy closed his eyes. His fingers curled around Ollie's wrist. Ollie paused, looking him over in concern.

"C'n you... Can you stay? Just until I fall asleep."

Ollie gave a small smile. He glanced back at Dinah. She nodded and left, shutting off the light and closing the door on her way out. Ollie pulled up a chair and settled down next to Roy's bed. He took Roy's hand in his, holding firmly.

"Sure, kiddo. I'm right here. Not going anywhere. You just go to sleep."

"'Kay. Night, dad. Love you."

Ollie stared for a moment. Those were two things in that he'd never heard Roy say before. Never thought he'd hear Roy say before. It made his chest feel warm. A wide smile spread across his lips despite his attempt to stiffle it. He kissed the side of Roy's head.

"I love you too, Roy."

Roy smiled. The radio was on, a barely audible hum of music that lulled him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at mechanicalpoet.tumblr.com.


End file.
